


Jacen Syndulla and the Bendu's Word

by lucymonster



Category: Star Wars Sequel Trilogy, Star Wars: Rebels
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Gen, MayThe4th Treat, Multi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-04
Updated: 2020-05-04
Packaged: 2021-03-01 17:02:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,584
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23990509
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lucymonster/pseuds/lucymonster
Summary: Jacen, Rey and Ben aren’t children any more, thank you very much. Destiny is calling, and the three of them are ready to take their places in the ultimate fight between good and evil.Their teachers, meanwhile, are facing a greater challenge still: they have to keep their teenage charges from setting the whole galaxy on fire before they graduate.(This is the Space Hogwarts AU where Leia and Ezra helped Luke found his Jedi temple, and instead of going down in flames, it grew into a thriving school. But as they discover, grouping all the galaxy’s Force-sensitive kids together creates as many problems as it solves.)
Relationships: Ezra Bridger/Leia Organa/Luke Skywalker, Rey/Ben Solo | Kylo Ren
Comments: 15
Kudos: 23
Collections: May the 4th Be With You Star Wars Fanworks Exchange 2020





	Jacen Syndulla and the Bendu's Word

**Author's Note:**

  * For [ambiguously](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ambiguously/gifts).



Rolling to avoid the business end of his attacker’s pedipalps, Jacen finally gets a hand inside his bag to turn on the sensor beacon. The giant spiders recoil. The fighting stops. Three Jedi apprentices collapse on the ground, spitting dirt and clutching their ribs.

‘Ben,’ Jacen growls. He’s too breathless to complete the accusation, but he doesn’t need to.

‘I had it under control.’ Ben pushes himself upright with his lightsaber’s blade, for all the world as though he’s about to go charging after the retreating arthropods. ‘It’s not my fault you’re both too scared to fight.’

Rey sits up too. She also looks angry, but not at the spiders. ‘We wouldn’t have had to fight if you didn’t upset them! They were leaving us alone, just like Master Ezra said they would.’

 _Krykna are highly sensitive to negative emotion,_ their master told them before they set out on this journey. _Control your feelings. Stay calm at all times. Don’t be a threat and they’ll let you go in peace._ Once the others were out of earshot, he added to Jacen: _Keep an eye on Ben, won’t you? Use this sensor beacon if you need it. The signal repels them._

Ben may be the one who (predictably) antagonised the krykna, but he and Rey are both equally at fault for landing them on Atollon in the first place. They’ve been getting worse with each other lately, too busy vying for the position of most gifted student to waste time on trifles like _rules_ or _homework._ Yesterday Master Ezra caught them full-contact sparring in the temple library – a euphemism for kissing, Jacen first assumed, until he saw the very non-euphemistic laser burns – and since regular detention hasn’t been making much impression, he ordered them out here to commune with something called a Bendu as a creative form of penance. 

Jacen got sent with them because he was (allegedly) near enough the library to have heard the fight and intervened. He knows the real reason is that without his supervision, Ben and Rey would turn the trip into a scorched-earth disaster.

Not that there’s much worth scorching on Atollon. Jagged rock is all that breaks the dusky brown horizon as far as Jacen’s eyes can see. There’s a strange feeling out here among the mesas, lonely despite the company, desolate despite the vibrant thrum of the Force weaving in and out of the tree corals. They left the _Grimtaash_ back on the flat where the old rebel base used to be, and he’s starting to wish they hadn’t. They may want a quick getaway if the krykna return. Which they will, if Ben and Rey keep spraying aggressive energy all over the place like krykna bait.

‘Calm down, both of you. We’re supposed to be looking for the Bendu, remember?’

‘I haven’t seen any Bendus,’ says Rey. ‘I’m starting to think this is another one of Master Ezra’s jokes, like that time he sent us looking for meilooruns on Jakku.’ She huffs, visibly annoyed by the memory. ‘I _told_ him a desert planet wasn’t going to have tropical fruit.’

Ben gives her the kind of patronising once-over that has a mid to high chance of starting the argument all over again. ‘I’ve read about Bendu in the annals of the ancient Jedi navigators. They say he’s a great master of the Force. The whole Force, not just one side of it like Luke and Ezra.’ He seems to light up at the thought – except, not really. Nothing about the look in his eyes is light. ‘There must be so much he can teach us if we find him.’

Jacen doesn’t like any of this. He doesn’t like these mesas and he doesn’t like those spiders and he doesn’t like Ben, much, not since he hit that growth spurt last summer and started turning into a very tall jerk. He doesn’t like being alone out here without Master Ezra or one of the other teachers. He wants to find the Bendu, get the minimum acceptable amount of communing done and head home to the temple as soon as possible.

‘There’s a basin up ahead,’ he says, pointing to where the ground dips and reappears at an angle that makes his thigh muscles burn just looking. ‘I think the Force might be drawing us toward it. I can feel something.’

‘If there were anything to feel, _I’d_ feel it,’ Ben says. ‘You’re just trying to keep us moving because you’re scared the spiders will come back.’ But he cooperates, which is better than nothing. They dust themselves off and walk.

* * *

There would have been a time when Ezra found the quiet unbearable. Hell, pick any time across most of his life, and he’d have said: just give him something to do. Peace? Serenity? Not his thing. When Luke talked him into joining the school, he thought he was in for a world of boredom. Training a bunch of kids to use the Force would be a snooze compared to fighting the Empire or traversing the Unknown Regions on purrgilback. That’s what he thought.

Goes to show even teachers aren’t done learning.

With its three strongest adolescent personalities off-world, the temple has sunk into a much needed lull. Ezra takes another swig of his brew and leans back on one elbow. The stars shine bright in the black above their sparsely occupied little world. The air has a crisp pre-industrial taste, sweetened by recent rain and the scent of Leia’s starflower beds. Given the choice between this and the usual chaos, he’s tempted to see if he can make the quiet a more regular thing. Maybe Bendu will agree to a yearly student exchange program.

Footsteps in the grass herald Luke’s arrival. ‘Child’s finally asleep,’ he says, sitting beside Ezra and arranging his robes. He sounds exhausted. ‘If I never sing another word in Mando’a till the day I die, it’ll be too soon.’

‘Does he even speak Mando’a?’

‘Does he speak anything? I don’t know. They’re the only lullabies that work.’

The child is still an enigma from the name down. Ezra assumes Luke must know more about him than he lets on – where the hell the little green guy came from, for instance. Ezra has tried asking, but the only answer he ever gets is _I’m minding him for a dear old friend._ Every night for the last three years, the child has had Luke help him out of his tiny beskar armour and lull him to sleep with hypnotic Mandalorian war chants. In his waking hours, he teaches Force healing as an extracurricular. It keeps him out of mischief.

Luke looks tense, so Ezra offers his bottle. ‘Want a swig?’

‘No thank you.’ Luke grimaces. ‘I still don’t know how you can drink that swill.’

‘Got a taste for it on Lira San. It’s not bad once you get used to the smokiness.’

‘Smokiness? It tastes like a liquid funeral pyre.’

‘It’s just grain liquor.’ Ezra drinks again – more for him, if Luke wants to be fussy. ‘Still a meat-and-potatoes farm boy at heart, huh? One day, when we catch a break, I’ll take you into Wild Space. Trust me. Lasat red ale is one of the least weird things you’ll drink out there.’

‘You know how to make a tempting offer.’ There’s a flicker of longing in Luke’s eyes that he can’t quite hide behind the sarcasm. Luke, Ezra knows full well, is no stranger to deep space travel – he tracked _him_ down, for one thing, when no one else could. There was a long time after the Empire’s fall when it looked like Luke’s life work would be scouring the Unknown Regions for the birthplace of the Jedi Order. But then his nephew started manifesting powers. Leia started reaching out for help. Before anyone knew it, Luke’s name belonged not to the ranks of great explorers but to a chaotically understaffed training temple where the parents of budding Force-sensitives send their children to receive what is technically – for lack of competition – the finest Jedi education in the galaxy.

‘Artoo picked up a transmission from Atollon earlier today,’ Luke tells Ezra. ‘It seems your pilgrims found their way.’ He holds Ezra’s gaze, starlight reflecting off his bright blue eyes. ‘Leia’s worried.’

Isn’t everyone? Ezra reaches for a calm he doesn’t feel. ‘Bendu helped me and my master find balance when I was falling into darkness. Ben’s not as far gone as I was. He’ll be okay.’

‘That fight with Rey–’

‘Don’t worry too much about Rey. The girl gives as good as she gets.’

‘I know. That’s what worries me.’

Ezra rubs a hand over his face. The dew from the bottle chills his skin in the cool night air, and he thinks longingly back to the time when _he_ was the one being reassured about his struggle with the dark side. Now time has slipped its leash and suddenly he’s the one expected to do the reassuring. Kanan always had exactly the right words, like he was reading off a script only adults knew. Ezra has been waiting and waiting but his copy of _Sage Words for Grown-Ups_ still hasn’t arrived.

He was improvising wildly when he sent the kids to Atollon. ‘They’ll be fine,’ is all he can tell Luke, hardly knowing if it’s a promise or a prayer. ‘All you need to worry about is whether the child sleeps through this time, or whether you’ll be up at midnight singing _Akaanati'kar'oya_ again.’

‘Your Mando’a is probably better than mine. You could take a turn.’

‘Or I could forget every word Sabine ever taught me and enjoy my sound night’s sleep.’

‘Come to bed with us, Ezra.’

‘What, so you can wake me when it’s feeding time? No thanks.’

But the joking smile has fallen off Luke’s face. He’s serious now. ‘Come to bed with us,’ he says again. ‘You know you’re always welcome. It’s been so long, I’ve started to think you’ve lost interest in us.’ He lifts an eyebrow. ‘You don’t want to hear what Leia thinks. Her tongue hasn’t exactly gone blunt in your absence.’

Ezra’s been tired, that’s all. The thought of _losing interest_ in Luke or Leia would be funny if it weren’t so awful. He needs them – but he’s been needing them from a distance lately. Old habits die hard. Trust never came easily, even before he spent all those years fending for himself in the Unknown Regions. There are times when his close-knit former life aboard the _Ghost_ feels like a fever dream.

‘Now who has all the tempting offers?’ He tries to bring some levity back, but when Luke holds a straight face, he gives up. ‘I know, and I’m sorry. It’s nothing to do with either of you. I’ve just had a lot on my mind. I’ll come to bed as soon as I’ve finished this ale, okay? It doesn’t keep well once the bottle’s been opened – all the smoke escapes.’

‘Wouldn’t want that.’ Luke nods, but he looks disappointed. Ezra would kick himself if his foot had the reach.

‘I won’t be long. Really. Don’t start without me.’

‘We’ll finish without you if you don’t hurry up. You know Leia doesn’t like to wait.’

‘Unlike you, Leia can go more than once.’ Ezra grins. There’s his out. He knows he hasn’t escaped Luke’s concern forever, but for now, they’re safely back on flippant footing. ‘Go on, then. Warm her up for me.’

He downs the rest of his drink within maybe thirty seconds of Luke’s departure. But then he breaks his promise and spends another few minutes sitting alone in the dark, gazing up at the stars. He never knew quiet could feel so good – better, or at least more immediately attractive, even than sex. Alone like this, clinging to silence and avoiding the people he loves, Ezra hardly knows himself.

He’s just been tired. That’s all.

* * *

_Screams. Cries. The stench of blood. A red lightsaber cutting the darkness like flesh. Terror and destruction and a face … a familiar face, contorted with hatred as it drives the blade home._

Jacen regains consciousness to blinding sun and a feeling like coarse grit in his eyes. He blinks hard, but when he clears them, he sees only endless mesas and his classmates looming over him.

‘He’s waking up,’ says Rey.

‘I’m not blind,’ Ben snaps. ‘I know he’s waking up.’

‘Do you? My mistake. I thought you never noticed anyone except yourself.’

‘You’re one to talk. I’m not the one who–’

Jacen drowns them out with a groan and wonders if it’s too late to knock himself unconscious again.

He’s not sure why he collapsed. He remembers one of the tree corals coming to life – remembers a figure rising up out of the sand, huge and horned with a shaggy red beard and a voice like gathering storm clouds. But before he could so much as recall Master Ezra’s instructions on communing with the creature, his head spun and the world went black. ‘What happened? How long have I been out? Did we find the Bendu?’

‘We should get back to the _Grimtaash_ ,’ says Ben, which is zero for three on the answer front. He looks pale. Paler than usual, even, his skin as white as old-fashioned paper beneath dark ink lines of eyes and moles and hair. 

Ben doesn’t wait for an answer, either. ‘Don’t jostle him like that,’ Rey says, as he grips Jacen under the armpits and lifts. ‘He can get up on his own.’

‘Maybe he can, but it’s easier this way. Just because you hate accepting help doesn’t mean no one else is allowed to have friends.’

Rey’s cheeks flood danger red. This tension is new: they fight, sure, but usually in a way that makes Jacen expect to find them making out behind the library afterwards. Now they’re both angry for real. Angry? Upset? Something must have happened with the Bendu. Something they’re not sharing.

‘I’m fine,’ Jacen says, catching his own weight. ‘I feel fine.’ Normal, even. No aches or pains or side-effects. Nothing but lingering drowsiness and the acrid aftertaste of his dream.

He still has the sensor beacon, at least. Whatever’s going on between Ben and Rey would be a Life Day feast of negative energy for the spiders.

They make it back to the ship unharmed, but something isn’t right. Jacen is still dwelling on it when they jump to the bright blue glow of hyperspace.

* * *

It’s wrong to have a favourite student, of course. No kid is more important than another. They’re all equally needy, full of stubborn opinions and growing pains and half-tamed powers that could upend the galaxy if one of them lost balance. Never mind that when Ezra was learning, favouritism was the _only_ way: one master, one apprentice, a sacred bond between the two. Luke has his own opinions about that. He also has such a dire shortage of Jedi masters that training the old way is logistically impossible. On record, Ezra values all his students equally.

Off record, he has a soft spot for Rey.

The girl reminds him of himself.

‘You’re distracted again today,’ he observes. Her energy field is erratic, stones circling at random instead of in the neat mobius she’s supposed to have made. ‘Any time you want to talk about what happened, you know I’m here.’

‘I’m sorry, Master Ezra. I’ll try harder.’

As if she didn’t hear his whole second sentence. It’s not unexpected. Since the day her parents left her at the temple, Rey has been obsessed with proving herself. She thinks they’ll come back for her if only her grades are high enough. All of them – Ezra and Leia and Luke, and even the child in his own inscrutable way – have done their best to make her feel at home, feel like part of their family so she doesn’t miss her own so much. It’s only ever worked up to a point. ‘I think that’s enough meditation for today,’ he says.

‘I’m not done yet.’ Rey looks crestfallen. ‘I can still–’

‘Rey.’ He can’t force her to talk if she doesn’t want to. Kanan was so good at this, coaxing Ezra to open up without making him feel trapped. Ezra tries to remember how the world looks through the eyes of a headstrong teen with abandonment issues. Rey doesn’t want a replacement parent – hers are coming back for her, someday. She’ll be shattered if she ever stops believing that. She also doesn’t want an adult swooping in and telling her what to do – she trusts her own judgement too much, convinced in the way of teenagers everywhere that the answers to all life’s most complex questions rest squarely inside her own mind. No. What she wants is … ‘We’re friends, you and I, aren’t we? No matter what’s going on in your life, I’d hate to think you couldn’t talk to me.’

Does that sound right? Approachable, but not overbearing? Friendly, but not trying too hard?

He waits a long moment.

Rey’s shoulders slump.

‘There’s something I haven’t told anyone,’ she says at last. ‘About … about that night in the library, when Ben and I fought. But I’m afraid you’ll be angry.’

‘I won’t,’ Ezra promises. ‘Tell me what happened.’

The floodgates open. He’s no Kanan, but he’s getting better at this.

Later, Ezra finds Leia in the teachers’ lounge, sipping her favourite Gatalentan tea. It smells divine, but he knows from experience that its rich aromas are an empty promise. The stuff tastes like astringent water. ‘So,’ he says before she can offer him a cup. ‘Rey finally confessed to breaking into the restricted library.’

Leia sighs. ‘Ben still hasn’t said a word. It looks like your theory was right – that’s what you’ve come to tell me, isn’t it?’

If having a favourite student is wrong then having an _un_ favourite is worse. Ben’s not a bad kid, but he’s difficult, and he has a way of making the whole school revolve around his problems. Maybe it’s not about good or bad teaching. Given who Ben’s family are, it’s natural there’s some favouritism. Maybe all Ezra’s doing is balancing things out. ‘She told me it was Ben’s idea,’ he confirms. ‘She thought it was just a game until he started trying to unlock the Sith holocron. That’s when she drew her blade.’ When Leia remains impassive, he adds: ‘She was almost in tears when she told me. I believe her apology, Leia. Kid got in over her head. She never meant any harm.’

‘I trust your judgement. And the fact that she’s owned up shows a lot of character.’ Another sigh. Another sip. ‘I just wish Ben … well, it is what it is. Did she say anything about what happened on Atollon?’

‘Not a word, unfortunately. And Jacen turned out to be a fat lot of use – apparently he fainted within seconds of entering Bendu’s presence. All he wants to tell me is how he must have been hit with some sort of sleep spell.’

‘But Bendu doesn’t…’

‘I know.’ Ezra grins. Somewhere underneath the timid phase he’s going through, Jacen is absolutely his parents’ son. But it’s a big legacy to live up to. He’s not done growing yet. ‘Don’t tell him that, though.’

‘At least he stopped Ben from launching an all-out war against the krykna.’

Very true. Ezra knows exactly that argument would go: _But Master Ezra, they’re just spiders. They’re a pest. Killing them would be doing everyone a favour._ Philosophy is Ben’s worst weakness as a student, lagging behind his combat skills and telekinetic mastery at an alarming distance.

No one needs to tell Leia that. She knows her son. But what Ezra does want to say is likely to be controversial. ‘I don’t like the way Ben and Rey influence each other, Leia. The energy between them … these aren’t the normal pangs of young love. We’ve all sensed there’s something else going on. I wonder if we should separate them until we’ve figured out what it is.’

Braced for argument, he’s not expecting Leia to toss back her head and laugh. For a moment he’s a kid again, stomping around in grownup shoes and trying to act like the princess of Alderaan doesn’t intimidate him. ‘Oh, Ezra. You’re an expert in young love now, are you?’

For better or worse (maybe both) Ezra’s not a kid any more. The grownup shoes fit his feet, and it’s not their fault he’s tied the laces so loose that they still flop around. ‘Hey. I was around Ben’s age when I met you.’

‘The way I recall, we didn’t exactly hit it off the first time.’

True again. He distinctly remembers finding Leia unbearably snooty at first. It wasn’t until much later, when he met Luke as well – when he saw what the two of them were like together – that his pique mellowed into something more like the bond they share today.

‘If we try to separate them,’ Leia says, ‘we’ll only add to the thrill of the thing. I don’t want to give them extra reasons to sneak around behind our backs. But I agree it’s time for more proactive steps. I’ve asked the child to lead Ben in some remedial meditation classes. Strengthening his connection to the light side may be the best way we can bolster him against whatever’s pulling him to the dark.’

The child. Remedial meditation. _Ben._ That’ll be good. Ezra makes a mental note to sit in on a class sometime. ‘I want to train Rey one on one,’ he says. ‘She’s more vulnerable to dark forces and Ben’s influence when she feels isolated. I know we can’t make up for her parents dumping her here, but … a bit more attention, you know? A chance to feel like she’s the special one instead of vying with Ben all the time.’

It comes out more pointed than he intends, but Leia doesn’t arc up. Her mind is on the problem at hand. ‘Do you have time in your schedule for that? With your teaching load?’

Neither Leia nor Luke has a smaller load than him, Ezra wants to point out. They make time for Ben anyway. Because he’s family. Rey needs some of that, even if she doesn’t want to admit it. ‘For that kid? I’ll make time.’

‘Good. You’re right – she needs it.’ Leia smiles, wistful. ‘I suppose this means Luke and I will be seeing even less of you than usual.'

The kids come first – all three of them are on the same page about that. Still. Ezra knows the feeling.

* * *

_Don’t concern yourself about it,_ is all Master Ezra will tell Jacen whenever he brings up his fears. _Talk to Master Ezra,_ is all Master Leia and Master Luke will tell him when he tries them. Life goes on more or less as normal – sparring and meditating by day, mapping the stars by night – and it sometimes seems to Jacen that he’s the only person in the galaxy who’s noticed one of his classmates circling the drain. The teachers don’t understand. They won’t listen.

Something has been wrong with Ben since Atollon. Ezra has strange dreams at night: dreams of thunderstorms and howling winds, dreams of lying in the shadow of dirty brown mesas and hearing others talk without being able to reply. _A dyad in the Force,_ his dreams roar at him in Bendu’s voice over backdrops of blood and destruction. _Two that are one. A power unseen for generations._

Rey and Ben have always been a little weird about each other, sure. They’re big fish in a small pond, as naturally gifted in the Force as they are desperate to make sure everyone knows it. As if anyone obliged to share a classroom with them could fail to notice. Rey has never liked the several years’ tuition headstart Ben has on her, and Ben has never liked the hole where Rey’s family story should be or the fact that a girl from nowhere can keep up with him so easily. They fight a lot. They flirt a lot. Sometimes it’s hard to tell the difference, and sometimes, Jacen thinks, they save time for themselves (and make life harder for everyone else) by doing both at once. Overinvested rivals, Jacen would believe. Girlfriend and boyfriend, maybe.

But soulmates? Two that are one? That doesn’t track. For one thing, Ben’s older. How does sharing a single soul work when one person’s born before the other? Did Ben start his life with only half a soul? Is that why he’s such a jerk, because he’s missing the bits that teach you how to play nice with others?

For another thing, Jacen knows Rey, and he knows she would never, ever consider falling to the dark side. And that face … his vision … it was Ben. Ben like Jacen has never seen him before. There are times he thinks he must have imagined it, because Ben’s a jerk, yes, but mostly in the vein of rude words and temper tantrums. He doesn’t kill people and leave their bodies rotting in a bloodsoaked pile like Jacen saw. He doesn’t even own a red lightsaber.

But how can the dreams not be real? Jacen didn’t know what the word _dyad_ meant until he looked it up in a dictionary. His brain couldn’t have invented that.

He watches Ben, since no one else seems to want to. Sees him reading books he shouldn’t read, practicing lightsaber moves that look way more violent than the defensive style Master Luke teaches. He spends hours meditating alone. Sometimes, peeping through his dorm room window, Jacen sees his lips move silently like he’s talking to someone in his head.

It’s not right.

But the teachers don’t care.

He talks to his dorm mate about his theories. ‘I don’t know,’ is all Finn says, picking at the frayed edge of his blanket as they lie stomach-down on their twin cot beds. ‘Rey’s always had a temper. I don’t think we can blame Ben for that, except maybe when he winds her up so much she loses it at the rest of us too.’

‘You don’t think he’s trying to seduce her to the dark side?’

‘Why would he?’ Finn shrugs, neutral as always. He never wants to take sides. Ironically, the trait that lets him get along with everyone is also the most infuriating thing about him. ‘I wouldn’t worry about him seducing anyone until he starts washing his hair more often. Girls notice that stuff.’

‘I don’t mean _that_ kind of seduction,’ Jacen says, cheeks flaming at the implication. ‘But even if he’s not seducing Rey, he’s definitely seducing himself.’

‘Hey, enough of that talk. What Ben does behind locked doors is none of my business.’

‘He has a book of Sith runes hidden under his bed. I think he stole it from the restricted library.’

‘You want to know what I think?’

‘Yes! That’s why I’ve been talking to you this whole time.’ He just wants someone to listen. Anyone.

Finn props his chin in his hands. ‘I think,’ he says, ‘you’re jealous of Ben because he’s stronger in the Force than you are. Don’t look at me like that, you know it’s true. He’s stronger than all of us except Rey. Plus you’ve been mad at him ever since you two fell out last summer.’

‘We didn’t fall out,’ Jacen snaps. ‘We just … stopped hanging out. He turned mean.’

‘Yeah, he can be mean sometimes. But he’s also really nice. Did you know he helps the lower grades practice their swordwork? Every week he’s out in the gym on his own time, tutoring them for no extra credit. It’s thanks to him Tai didn’t flunk his sparring prac last term.’ Another shrug. ‘I just wish you two would talk to each other. You’re both my friends, and I don’t want to be caught in the middle.’

‘I didn’t mean to put you in the middle. I’m sorry.’

It’s no big deal, Finn assures him. They play mini-gravball and forget about it.

That night, Jacen dreams again. He’s in an enormous cavern, bluish-black with flashing lights and a huge throne as jagged as the corals on Atollon. Ben’s there, dressed head to toe in black. He’s talking to a hideous corpse of a man whose voice is so frightening that Jacen can’t parse the words through the static of his own terror.

All he knows is that it isn’t just a dream. Whoever that corpse is, it’s someone Ben knows well. Something’s wrong. No one’s listening. _Someone_ needs to do _something._

* * *

It’s not that he’s tired, Ezra has come to realise. Well, no – he’s definitely tired, between his massive classwork roster and all the extracurricular moral support he has to dole out. But that’s not his problem. His problem is that he’s lonely, and the lonelier he gets, the more he pulls away from the people who could help him out of his rut. It’s a vicious cycle. 

He’s always had a tendency to withdraw into himself when he gets stressed. Luke and Leia used to keep him in the land of the living by force. But with all that’s been going on at the school, not one out of the three of them has had time leftover to take care of their own relationship. That’s why he hasn’t been himself lately. And the only way out is through.

He turns the tables on the child by making _him_ the babysitter – or, as far as the students are concerned, by arranging a special evening class on how to empathically connect with shy nocturnal fauna in the woods outside the temple. The green guy’s great with animals. He’ll keep them busy for hours.

He takes the Lasat ale out of his icebox and stocks up on milder brew Luke won’t turn up his snout at.

He declares a date night just for the three of them. Time to reconnect, let go of the stress, enjoy each other’s presence and just be _people_ for a while instead of teachers.

It’s a good plan.

But maybe the kids get wind of what’s happening, because there’s an eerie lack of trouble in the day leading up to the big night. It’s like they’re planning a sabotage. Like they’re saving a whole day’s worth of drama for a big binge at the most dramatic moment possible. And sure enough, bang on dinnertime, all hell breaks loose. 

It starts when someone notices that Jacen hasn’t appeared for his meal. This leads to the discovery that a ship is missing from the hangar, and of course it’s Ben’s ship, the _Grimtaash,_ and of course Ben immediately unleashes a tantrum about people touching his stuff without asking. An anxious Finn discloses after a long, slow stab-in-the-dark interview that Jacen has been _obsessing over some Bendu thing, I dunno, he said it turns people into dryads and apparently that’s bad._ From this, Ezra deduces that Jacen must have wanted the _Grimtaash_ specifically for the coordinates stored in its flight log. He’s gone to Atollon. Bringing him home is top priority for approximately three minutes before a second implosion happens and Rey ends up in Ezra’s office bawling her eyes out.

‘It’s all my fault,’ she says between hiccoughs, tears streaming from her puffy eyes. ‘Jacen kept asking me what happened with the Bendu and I didn’t want him to – hic – know, I didn’t want _anyone_ to know, so I told him to … I told him…’

‘It’s okay,’ Ezra says. What would Kanan do? Put an arm around her, probably. He pats her shoulder and feels her whole frame lurch with the violence of her sobs. ‘Whatever you told him, it’s not your fault he decided to go out of bounds.’

‘B-b-but I’m–’ Rey gulps several times as though trying to swallow her misery. ‘I’m the only one who can bring the – hic – balance.’

What?

No. Don’t be blunt with the girl when she’s crying. Better start with a gentler query to get her talking, something like – ‘What?’

The sobs resume with a vengeance, but the story comes out in fits and starts. Ezra learns that Bendu apparently told Ben and Rey they’re something called a dyad in the Force – a point of cosmic balance between dark and light. Rey, who was never exactly _dis_ inclined to run around after Ben, seems to have taken this to mean she’s personally responsible for counteracting his dark tendencies. It’s too much responsibility for a girl her age. It’s too much responsibility for anyone. For a minute, Ezra forgets about going to Atollon to get Jacen because he’s too busy planning to go to Atollon to give Bendu a piece of his mind.

While Rey sobs her heart out in his desk chair, Ezra ducks out into the hall to meet Luke and Leia. Luke’s brow is furrowed and Leia has a conspicuous wet patch on her shirt. Apparently the theft of his beloved ship tipped Ben over the edge, and all the secrets have come pouring out in a torrent of tears to rival Rey’s. 

‘It’s worse than we thought,’ she tells Ezra in hushed tones. ‘He’s been hearing voices. Having visions. Someone or something has been messing with his head, convincing him it’s his destiny to embrace the dark side.’ Pain is etched all over her face. ‘He’s just a boy, Ezra. He’s scared out of his wits.’

‘I know.’ Someone or something? Between this and the business about dyads, Ezra suddenly sees a lot of after-hours investigative work in his future. They’re not getting that date night any time soon. ‘I need to collect Jacen. Apparently, Rey dared him to ask Bendu about the dyad himself.’

‘Stay with Rey,’ says Luke, eyes flicking to the tear stains on Ezra’s jacket. ‘I’ll find Jacen – though how he’s managed to make this about himself, I don’t know. But Ezra? No more unsupervised field trips.’ His lips quirk. ‘Next time anyone gets detention, our own staff can handle it. Bendu’s off the payroll.’

* * *

A tiny beskar-gloved hand tugs Jacen’s sleeve. Tugs twice, more insistently.

‘The same song again, Master? But I’ve already archived that one.’

Another tug. Resolute and imbued with power. Sighing, Jacen hits replay on the holo. He leaves his little master swaying happily to a Mandalorian war chant he’s already heard a dozen times in the last hour, and returns his attention to the pile of other holorecords Master Ezra has ordered him to archive.

He’ll be doing this after class every evening for the next two weeks. Detention sucks.

A knock at the door almost blurs into the music, but Jacen has (against his will) committed every note of this song to heart. ‘Come in,’ he calls.

It’s Ben. Standing tall and awkward in the doorway, hands curled inside his sleeves, he is arguably the only sight that could irritate Jacen more than what’s already in front of him. He looks like he knows he’s unwelcome, too. Jacen wonders if one of the teachers made him come.

This is all his fault. How was Jacen meant to know Master Leia and Master Luke already knew about Ben’s dark side dabbling, if they acted dumb every time he tried to bring it up? If only Ben had talked to him about what happened on Atollon, he wouldn’t have been so worried that he had to go out there himself and end up in detention.

But why would Ben have talked to him? They’ve hardly spoken since last summer.

They used to be friends, once. Before Ben turned into a jerk.

‘Ezra said I’d find you here,’ says Ben. ‘Jacen, I, uh.’ He shifts from foot to oversized foot. ‘I wanted to say sorry for what happened. I was … I’ve been dealing with some heavy stuff, okay? I thought I could handle it by myself. I didn’t even think you’d noticed, but my mom told me you were worried and that’s why you got in trouble for sticking your nose in. So … yeah. Sorry.’

A pause.

‘It’s fine,’ Jacen says, heart in his throat and cheeks burning red. ‘Whatever.’

‘Cool.’ With a glance at the Master still swaying happily to his music, Ben shuffles in and picks up a data tape. Without another word, he starts helping Ezra archive.

Maybe that’s why he turned into a jerk, because he was dealing with so many personal issues. Maybe now that it’s out in the open, they can be friends again. Ezra thinks about what Finn said, how Ben’s really nice sometimes, how he helps struggling students with their swordwork. How he’s Finn’s friend. It would be nice if they could all be friends, Jacen and Finn and Ben and Rey.

‘Ben,’ Jacen says after a while. ‘I know I’m supposed to butt out from now on, but I just want to ask one question.’

‘Go ahead.’

He’s been turning over in his mind since his second trip to Atollon. He managed to connect with the Bendu before Master Luke dragged him back by his ear. The words the Bendu used all sounded very big and important: _dyad in the Force, unseen for generations, two that are one._ Just like Jacen’s vision. But he’s started to get the idea that maybe big words don’t have to mean big concepts. Maybe it’s something simpler. Maybe everyone’s just fooling themselves – the adults, the other kids, everyone – and Jacen alone has seen through it.

‘Do you like Rey?’ he asks.

‘Of course I do. She’s smart and a good fighter and she’s, you know … the other half of my soul, or whatever. Like Bendu said. My counterbalance in the Force.’

‘Yeah, but.’ Jacen shoves a data tape in its archive slot and grabs another. ‘Do you _like_ like her?’

Ben turns bright red from the tips of his prominent ears down right under the neckline of his temple robe. ‘Shut up,’ he snaps. ‘This is stupid, anyway. I don’t even have detention. I don’t have to help you.’

Jacen takes that as a yes. The holo ends, and the little master tugs on his sleeve for another repeat.

Even if they can’t talk about the deep stuff yet, detention goes faster with Ben for company.

* * *

There are still moments of quiet here and there. Like now. It’s late at night, and the kids are in bed – Ezra blocked one attempt by Ben and Rey to sneak off into the library together, but they were headed for the private back room this time, rather than the restricted section – and he’s out on the lawn under the stars, knocking back a disappointingly mild ale left over from date night. It’s better than nothing.

Better still when he hears footsteps behind him in the grass, and before he knows it, Luke and Leia are sitting down on either side of him. They don’t speak. They just thread their hands together in a chain, Luke relieving Ezra of his bottle and downing a generous swig himself.

Tomorrow will be another long day filled with teenage existential agonies and inter-student drama. Ezra will need all his strength. 

There are better ways to recharge than sleeping. 

The ale tastes a lot less disappointing as an aftertaste in Luke’s mouth. Leia tastes like that awful Gatalentan tea, which is to say, like barely anything. Ezra doesn’t mind. He kisses them both, and the flavours blend until he can’t tell which belongs to who.

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [[art] Jacen Syndulla Doesn't Deserve This](https://archiveofourown.org/works/27206131) by [WolfWagon](https://archiveofourown.org/users/WolfWagon/pseuds/WolfWagon)




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